Woonsocket High School - Quiver Yearbook (Woonsocket, RI)

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24 THE QUIVER which froze my blood with terror—a deep voice saying, ‘(iet ofif my eye!” This was too much for me, so 1 dropjied the gasoline can and ran as fast as my trembling legs could go. It was then that I fell over a grave! As soon as 1 could scramble up, I made a wild dash for the machine, imagining all the time that there was a “spook” l ehind me ready to grasp me if 1 slowed up at all. 1 reached the car at last, breathless and minus the gas can and my hat. The fellows were sitting snugly in the liack seat and seemed to be in very fine spirits. Noticing my condition, they asked what had happened; but when 1 finished my wild story about ghosts, they burst into laughter. 1 was hurt at first, but when 1 found that they were responsible for the whole “ghost business. I was very angry. I made them go back for the gas and for my hat. and while they were trying to start the car. 1 was sitting peacefully in it. making “wise remarks, which did not please them a bit. but revenge is sweet! We finally started and were home in half an hour. The dance was in full swing when we arrived, but we enjoyed ourselves for the rest of the evening. Leslie Strickland. ’26. THE FACE AT THE WINDOW One cold ()ctober night, the family had gone to Providence to see I iarold Lloyd in “The Freshman. Fred had decided not to go, for. as usual, he had a great deal of studying to do. Anyway, he reasoned, “the picture will probably come to Woonsocket before long. When all had gone and everything was quiet. Fred tackled his lesson in Virgil; after an hour of hard work lie had translated the required passage. Now for the history! “Wow!” lie exclaimed, “what a tough assignment! A four-page essay on the subject. ‘If 1 Were an Egyptian Boy in the Fourteenth Dynasty’! 1 le was plunged deep in the thought of Pharaohs and Pyramids, when suddenly he sat up straight and looked around as if something had disturlied him. “The wind does make queer sounds to-night. thought Fred. Rather nervously he turned his attention hack to his work. Almost immediately an uncanny moan sounded outside the window. Glancing out, he was chilled with horror at the sight that met him. Framed in the opening was a wild, staring face. I'he eyes were glassy and expressionless; the hair was long and matted. Terrified beyond measure. Fred seized the lx ok of Egyptian customs and hurled it through the window at the ajie-like face. A series of piercing shrieks echoed through the still night air. Rushing to the window. Fred looked out into the darkness, but the apparition had disappeared.

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THE QUIVER 23 success and finally returned to headquarters; to our dismay, we found that the clerk whom we had left in charge had eaten all the candy we had left Itehind. ( ur troubles increased when the boys who had served all day as ‘‘horses.” drawing us dignitaries from house to house, demanded a cent apiece as pay for their lal or. This demand was met. for the class so lalx t-ing was great in numher and was just spoiling for a fight, anyway. With the treasury completely exhausted, we ended the day hy filing a petition for liankruptcy. Albert Robinson, '26. “SPOOKS?” WELL- 11) you ever run out of gas in an out-of-the-way place on a cold, rainy night? 1 have, and it is an experience 1 shall never forget and hoj e never to have again. We had played football in Providence that afternoon and had been defeated by a very close score. This alone was enough to discourage anyone, but the prospects of attending a dance at the High School that evening bellied to brighten us up. It had rained during the game, and it was raining when we started for home, a cold rain, which chilled us to the marrow ; but we did not mind that much as long a we hoped to 1 e on time for the dance. W e were coming up C'uml)erland Hill Road at a pretty good pace when 1 heard the engine gasp and then stop. My heart sank a few feet, for 1 knew what had hap| ened. No gas! Another set-hack was the fact that we had stopj ed at a lonely sjw»t on the edge of a cemetery, which was not a cheerful and happy setting. 1 knew where I was and where the nearest gas station was located, so 1 proceeded to get some gasoline. To do this, it was necessary for me to jjass through the cemetery. This did not please me a hit. i managed to reach the other side without seeing any sj)ooks,” hut 1 certainly did watch my step not to walk on any graves. I imagined 1 heard queer noises, hut I suppose it was the wind whistling around the tombstones. I obtained the gas and proceeded to go hack to the machine. And then the fun b.gan! The first had luck was when I accidentally step] ed on a flower j ot on a grave, and the noise it made when breaking scared me so that I began to tremble. I had no sooner recovered from my first fright than I heard a scream. If I had trembled before. 1 was quaking now: and then 1 heard something COLA W

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THE QUIVER 25 The next morning, after a night of fearful dreams, Fred told his parents of the incident. His father, reading the morning paper, exclaimed, “Perhaps this explains it: ‘Lunatic escapes. Overpowers two guards and scales wall. Relieved to he in vicinity of W oon.socket, his former home’. I’ll l et that's who it was! cried Fred, lie certainly looked wild enough! After that it was a queer coincidence that whenever the family went out in the evening. Fred invariably had an engagement, too. In truth, he had made up his mind not to stay at home alone. ()h. no! he wasn’t afraid, hut it really seemed wiser to go! John Rich, ’26. IN AN ANTIQUE SHOP Among the most interesting features of Caj e Cod are its antique shops. The one which I am alxmt to describe is situated on the Bowne-Falmouth Road, alxmt three miles from West Falmouth. The shop is in a weatherbeaten shanty, set back from the road, and might well lx described as an antique itself. hitside. there hangs a dilapidated wooden sign, which announces to all interested that antiques may lx l ought within. To this is added the jxmipous phrase: “Miss I avinia Phinney, Proprietress. On the unmowed front lawn, there are a few Windsor chairs, a huge Indian urn of Cajx? Cod sweet j eas, a warming pan, and a massive iron kettle, which is suspended campfire style and filled with red geraniums. We had passed this s|x t several times during the summer, hut never had taken the time to stop. However, on the day 1 mention, we were out riding with no definite destination, so one of our party suggested that we visit Miss Phinney, a suggestion that met with instant approval. We were met at the door by one whom we judged to lx Miss Lavinia herself. Indeed she was all that the name implied, for she was a typical spinster of the type one reads about in a Joseph Lincoln novel. She wore a long, black dress of the kind of silk that rustles with its every move. Her neck was veritably choked by a high, white, lace collar, and h r iron-gray hair was pulled up to a tight knot on the top of her head. About her feet, there brushed a lazy-looking gray cat. whose neck was ornamented by a bow of pink ribbon. On the whole, they were truly a strange pair. Hood afternoon.” said the proprietress, in a matter-of-fact tone. “You’ve come to see my antiques?” Upon my reply in the affirmative, she ushered us into a dingy, low-studded room, literally filled with antiques of all sorts and descriptions.